This is far and away my worst experience. I was living in London. As Brit mongerers may know, a lot of the law firms have their offices not far from Liverpool Street station. Monthly team drinks were a notoriously boozy affair.
After just about the entire team was booted out of the law firm offices for being too drunk and rowdy, we moved on to a nearby Bar in Shoreditch, which was a famously trendy area, but slightly dodgy at the same time.
I was very intoxicated but still appropriate. I left the nightclub after "one last drink", which was one of those transformative last drinks that take you from being reasonably in control of your faculties and waking up in a passable state to being a silly, staggering mess destined for a screaming hangover.
I began shuffling home toward where I lived, just off Brick Lane. This is Jack the Ripper territory, right down to pubs such as the Ten Bells where some of his victims used to hang out.
As I was staggering past the Ten Bells, there was some seemingly okay looking girl strolling up and down in front of the pub. Spitalfields is fairly gentrified so I was somewhat surprised when she said "Looking for a lady, my place is just nearby".
I was extremely drunk by now - fvck knows what my mates had given me as my last drink - possibly a jager bomb. I sort of grunted my assent and we suddenly seemed to be walking off together arm in arm. She was guiding me towards Whitechapel, which (it must be said) is less gentrified and more dodgy. And even more Jack the Ripper.
We got to this rather old and very crumby looking set of terrace houses that had an open stairway out the front leading to various levels of doorways - it's hard to describe but it's quite unusual for buildings of that vintage. It's sort of like a 19th century apartment building. I know this because I subsequently used to pass it on the way to City Airport...giving an involuntary shudder.
Anyway, she led me by the arm up the stairs. I said "which of the flats is yours"? She said: "None - we'll just have to fvck in the stairwell!"
I said "No fvcken way I'm not doing that".
She kind of had me pinned against the wall. She got down on her knees and said "Listen I'll just give you a blowjob". I said something like "I don't what to put you to any trouble".
She then shifted and the moonlight hit her face. She opened her mouth (even though I was still completely zipped and covered). I then realised she had only one prominent and very green tooth, as well as the most "faces of crystal meth" complexion I'd ever seen on anyone.
I was immediately stone cold sober and slightly terrified. I could not believe that I had been so drunk before as not to realise what a sketchy situation this was.
I had to get out of there fast but she was blocking my way - I'm a gentle, and pretty slight, guy, so as always had to rely on wits not fists. I kind of played along saying, "Hang on just let me get onto the lower stair and we'll get underway".
She hopped up and I gingerly moved down past her into position. The moment she knelt again, I turned and bolted the fvck out of there. She was screaming and chasing after me. A black taxi was just pulling up some distance down the road. I flagged it down in a pretty agitated state. Then I suddenly started to think I'd dropped my wallet on the way. I couldn't find it and I was too drunk to realise it was in my breast pocket.
I'm a good sprinter (or at least was in those days) so she was a fair way behind me. But as I was frantically patting all my pockets trying to find my fvcking wallet she caught up with me. Despite her emaciated state, she got my arm in a vice like grip. She said:
"If you don't give me money I'll tell the police you raped me"
Wildly implausible, I know, but I was drunk, tense and pretty young back then. So I felt even more scared. I found 40 quid and gave it to her very hurriedly. As she protested, I gave her another 20 quid. She finally fvcked off.
Climbed into the black cab. The cabbie said:
"Ain't love grand!"